Whipping Bottles
by BithaBlu
Summary: This is a PostPonzi-PreCry piece that I've been toying with. Mary brings home a case of beer and Brandi freaks out. Marshall shows up to throw down and things get a little hectic when the bottles start flying. COMPLETE! finally
1. Whipping Bottles

_Whipping Bottles  
Like Little Glass Grenades  
Memories Hum  
But The Rage Serenades  
-Alcohol and Anger Management_

The front door slammed hard, causing Brandi and Raph to jump. Both turning from the sink full of bubbles and dishes, they saw a blonde hurricane storming through the living room. All fury and rage, Mary kicked boxes out of her way and threw her purse against the wall. It flew into one of the FBI's holes, bounced, and dangled from a rip in the sheet rock as Mary yanked open the back door and stomped out to the backyard.

Out of the corner of her eye, Brandi saw Raph's mouth open. Terror ripped through her and she grabbed his wrist tightly. She knew he was about to ask Mary what was wrong but he didn't know. Maybe he had seen the box Mary had been dragging with her but he didn't know what it meant. He didn't understand that talking to Mary was dangerous right now. He didn't know that going anywhere near her meant a trip to the hospital. He didn't know that _that_ particular box in Mary's hands was a ticking time bomb.

Mary had a case of _Dos Equis_ and Brandi knew it was time to hide.

***

"What the hell was that all about," Raph asked, bewildered. Brandi was gripping his wrist forcefully and shaking as she stared at path of destruction. It was obvious that she was terrified but what wasn't obvious was why. Mary was always pissed off at something. She kicked things and slammed doors like most people breathed.

Brandi let go of Raph's arm and leaned back against the counter. Oblivious to the bubbles soaking into the back of her shirt, she wrapped her arms around herself protectively and tried to choke back a whimper. Shakily, she tried to explain, "When Mary buys herself a case of beer, you need to stay away from her. Don't talk to her, don't look at her and, for the love of god, don't try to take the beer away from her."

Raph stared at the shaking blonde. Gone was the arrogant brat that he had first met. The past year had stripped Brandi of her ballsy attitude but there had to be something more to this than just a fear of a drunken sister. With her arms wrapped around herself and eyes staring at a spot on the floor, she looked like a scared little girl. Normally, Raph would try to talk to her and be sympathetic but aggravation flooded his brain. Apparently, there were even more rules to dealing with Mary than he had thought. He loved her but she was so controlling, so secretive and so damn angry that it was almost impossible to deal with her. And now there was this- her sister shaking in fear from a case of beer- and it irritated him.

"You can't be serious. She buys beer all the time. What's so damn scary about her buying a case instead of a six pack? Am I supposed to run away if she buys a keg?" Raph rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Is there a bomb shelter nearby in case she gets a bottle of tequila?"

"You don't understand, Chico. She won't get that drunk off of six bottles. She can't throw a keg. She'd be too drunk after a bottle of tequila to aim right." Brandi's eyes widened as a stream of words flooded out, "A case of beer is twenty four bottles that she can throw when the beer is gone. A case means she's had a really bad day and she can't hit what's pissing her off. And if she can't hit the thing that's bothering her, you know damn well that she'll take it out on the first person that's stupid enough to come within throwing range."

Sighing, Raph sat down at the kitchen table. _What other little quirks am I going to have to learn about? What other Mary rules am I going to have to memorize? Why the hell couldn't she just be normal? _He waved Brandi over to the table to join him and asked, "So what do we do now?"

***

Mary had been drinking out by the pool for over two hours and the bottles were starting to stack up. From the window, Brandi could count eight empties and the one in her sister's hand was dangerously close to empty. She had turned off the lights in the living room so she could keep a close eye on the bottle count without Mary seeing her. There had been a scary moment when Jinx had gotten home from one of her meetings and automatically flicked the lights on. Brandi had been trying to figure out if there were four or five bottles at the time and Mary had looked directly at her when the lights turned on. Brandi ducked behind the curtain and hissed at Jinx to hit the lights.

There had been a moment of confusion until Brandi explained the situation with one sentence- "Mary's got a case of beer with her out by the pool."- and Jinx slapped off the lights before joining them on the couch. Since then, Brandi and Jinx had told Raph, in explicit detail, about all the times in the past that Mary had come home with a dreaded box of bottles. He was shown the tiny scar of Jinx's forehead and informed of the extreme violence Mary was capable of when she like this. It was hard to tell how much of it was exaggerated but, even if he believed half of what they were telling him, Raph soon found himself grateful that Brandi had stopped him from trying to talk to Mary. Evidently, this had happened every two or three months back in New Jersey but there had only been one incident in Albuquerque as far as they knew.

Jinx had just gotten done telling them the story from that night when the phone rang. The noise came from the other side of the room and the three of them stared at the purse hanging off the wall in trepidation. It was Mary's phone that was ringing and none of them knew what to do.

"Should one of us answer it," Brandi asked hesitantly. Mary's phone was off limits. No one else used it, no one else answered it and no one else touched it. But, right now, no one was willing to go outside and give Mary her phone. But when it stopped ringing, Raph felt foolish. Mary always answered her phone and there shouldn't be any reason that she would get pissed about someone going outside to give her the phone.

So when the phone rang again, Raph marched across the room and grabbed it out of her purse. The caller ID said 'Boss Man Stan' so he felt safe answering it. "Mary's phone, this is Raphael."

"Hey Raphael, is Mary around?" Stan's voice sounded impatient and annoyed. Raph winced and hoped that this wouldn't be one of those calls that sent Mary running out the door. She would be in no condition to drive and, more importantly, he didn't want to have to give her the phone.

"Um," Raph hesitated for second before answering the question with a phrase that he had heard many time when he had tried to call her at the office, "She's… she's indisposed at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?"

There was an exasperated sigh from the other side of the line. Tersely, Stan said, "Look Raphael, I don't care if she's sleeping or in the shower. I need to talk to her. Now."

Raphael looked out the window and saw Mary slouching in one of the lounge chairs with one arm thrown over her eyes and the other holding onto a bottle. Squaring his shoulders and ignoring Brandi waving her hands and mouthing the word 'NO', Raph headed out the back door as he told Stan, "I'll get her then."

* * *

Stan tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. He did _not_ like Raph answering Mary's phone and he really didn't like that it was taking this long to get her on said phone. 'What the hell is taking so long,' Stan wondered.

"Mary, you've got a phone call," Stan heard Raph call out. There was a sudden and loud crash and Stan grimaced as Raph yelped, "Damnit Mary! It's your boss."

There was a second crash and Stan sighed as he listened to Raph retreat back into the house and slammed the door shut. In the background he could hear Brandi say, "I told you not to go out there. There's no way anyone is getting near her until she passes out."

Apparently Mary wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone but Stan needed her damn DAF report and Marshall had no idea where the hardcopy was. Her computer files were a clusterfuck of confusion so they couldn't even figure out where she kept her accounting records. Currently, Marshall was checking out everything in the file marked 'SS' in the hopes that SS stood for 'stupid shit'. The file named 'WOMT' had already been searched but apparently the DAF report wasn't a complete waste of her time because it wasn't in there.

"I'm sorry," Raph said, "but I can't get the phone out to her right now. I'll leave a message for her and she can call you in the morning."

Stan rubbed his forehead in annoyance. If Mary had just turned in the damn report before she had left this wouldn't be a problem. But _no_, she just had to leave early without talking to anyone. She and Marshall were fighting- again- and now she was seemingly incommunicado. HQ was screaming for those reports and, if they weren't faxed in by 8AM, Stan was looking at having one shit-storm of a day.

"Look," Stan said patiently, "I need to talk to Mary now. This can't wait until tomorrow morning."

There was a hesitation and then Raph replied, "I'm sorry but if you want to talk to her then you're going to have to come here. But do yourself a favor- bring a helmet."

*click*

"Damn it!" Stan slammed the phone down and stormed out of his office. This whole mess was because his two inspectors couldn't act like adults and talk out their problems. Instead, they sniped at each other until one of them gave the other one the silent treatment. Usually Marshall would give in eventually but evidently Mary had really crossed a line this time because Marshall was refusing to have anything to do with her. The only time Mary had gotten a reaction out of him was when she had pulled her spitball straw out of her drawer. Marshall had glared at her until she stuck some paper in her mouth. The second she took aim, he had gotten up, grabbed his scissors as he walked around his desk and yanked the straw out of her mouth. Marshall had then proceeded to cut up her straw into small pieces as Mary, Eleanor and Stan watched in complete shock. Once the straw was just a pile of plastic, Marshall had returned to work and refused to say a single word to his partner for the rest of the day.

"Children," Stan muttered as he crossed the room to Mary's desk, "I work with children."

"Did you find out where it is," Eleanor asked as she set down a pile of papers. So far, she had checked every scrap of paper on Mary's desk and was now going through the pile of files Mary kept tucked under the fern in the windowsill.

Stan shook his head and tried to figure out what to do. That report had to be here but only Mary could tell them where. Unfortunately, Mary was apparently drunk and throwing things at anyone who came near her. That left Stan with one choice. He had to send someone over there to either get Mary to tell them where the report was or haul her ass back here to find it. Eleanor could probably do it but Stan didn't want to risk missing out on the greatest catfight ever. Plus, one or both of them would probably end up in the hospital and he wouldn't want that. So sending Eleanor was out. He didn't want to go either. And since he was the boss, it was easy to pass it off to the one person left.

"Marshall, I'll go through Mary's files. There's something else I want you to do right now."


	2. Like Little Glass Grenades

The rattle of the front door startled Raph. What surprised him even more was the sound of keys turning in the lock. He lived there and he didn't have keys yet. So it wasn't that much of surprise when Raph felt a twinge of annoyance when Marshall strode into the house. 'He doesn't even live here,' Raph thought, 'Why the hell does he get keys and I don't?'

Without sparing a glance to the three people on the couch, Marshall stalked over to the back door and threw it open. Brandi, Jinx and Raph looked at each other in shock from the usually laid-back man's abrupt entrance and exit. It seemed like Mary wasn't the only one having a bad day and all three wondered if a fight between the partners was the reason for the case of beer. Whatever the cause of the blatant hostility from both marshals didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered to the three people inside the house was the imminent train-wreck and they scrambled to the window to watch.

Marshall showed no fear as he stomped down the back steps. On the other side of the yard, Mary sat barefoot and cross-legged on a lounger staring at the reflection of the moonlight on the pool. She didn't even look before she lobbed a bottle towards her partner. Brandi and Jinx cringed from behind the pane of glass. The toss was a little low and would have missed Marshall completely had he not quickened his pace to intercept it. In one fluid motion, Marshall snatched the bottle out of the air and launched it back towards Mary with a surprising amount of force.

The bottle shattered against the concrete privacy wall behind Mary and exploded in a shower of tiny shards. From inside the house, Brandi and Jinx gasped in unison. It had missed Mary by a good five feet but her head jerked up like it had hit her. She stared, in shock, as her partner crossed the yard in a barely contained rage. Despite not being about to hear, those inside the house could easily read Mary's lips.

"Jesus Marshall- what the hell?"

* * *

Marshall glared down at Mary in response to her question. It wasn't fair. She drops two huge bombs on him in a matter of days but she's the one that gets to go home and get drunk? He had been planning on spending the night at the bottom of a bottle but, instead, had been searching in vain through her hellishly unorganized computer for a report that Stan had been bugging her about for days. Common courtesy had never been Mary's strong suit but she had really been pushing it lately. She didn't tell him she was engaged. She didn't talk to him before she told Raph about the job. She couldn't even turn in her own paperwork and now she was throwing bottles at him. Granted, he knew she hadn't been trying to hit him when she threw it, but it still pissed him off. After everything he had done for her, she was treating him like everyone else in her life. She was pushing him away and he was sick of it.

"If you're going to pull this shit again," Marshall snapped, "then keep your goddamned phone with you."

Mary blinked rapidly and tried to focus. Marshall could see the confusion and hurt in her face but it was really hard for him to care. She had hurt him so many time over the past few years and it was about damn time for her to get a hint of what he had been feeling.

Quietly, very quietly, she asked, "Did I miss a call from you?"

Marshall closed his eyes and tried counting to ten. When that didn't work, he just kept his eyes closed and responded as calmly as he could, "Not from me. Stan needs your DAF report and we can't find it. He called but Raph wouldn't bring you your phone because you were throwing bottles."

"Oh." Mary bit her lip and turned back to watching the lights bouncing on the water.

"Mare," Marshall waved his hand in front of her face, "Where's the report?"

She turned her face to look up at him. There was no way she could mistake the neutral façade he knew he wore. She had seen it enough over the years. For someone that could be so oblivious sometimes, she could always read him like a book. Well, except for that one thing but Marshall never knew if she couldn't tell or if she just chose to ignore it.

"I put it under yours. It should be on your desk."

Whipping out his cell phone, Marshall called Stan and told him where to look. After a few second filled with the noise of shuffling paper, there was a triumphant "Finally!" and Stan promptly hung up so he could get the report faxed in. Job completed, Marshall turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Her voice called out, compelling him in so many ways, and he stopped. He didn't turn around, didn't face her because he couldn't see her looking sad and lost without losing the anger. Right now, he needed that anger. He needed to feel betrayed or he'd go insane. So, instead of putting himself through the hell of forgiving her and hating himself, he said in a voice as rough as sandpaper, "Why should I?"

There was a slapping of feet against concrete and Marshall sighed as he felt Mary's hand on his shoulder. The light touch was more painful than the usual punch. Weariness killed the anger and Marshall could feel himself turning towards her against his will.

"When are you going to stop being mad at me," she asked.

"I don't know." Such a simple answer- completely devoid of his normal verbose ramblings. But the question wasn't so simple. When can a person stop feeling betrayed? What could she do to make the empty pit inside whole again? She couldn't untell Raph. As difficult as it was to admit that there was something he didn't know, it was worse to admit to himself that it wasn't just her telling Raph about the job that was the problem. The problem was that she was pushing him away and he couldn't handle that. Together they were a tornado- she was the whirling chaos and he was the calm center that kept their path focused. Without him, Mary would just be unconstrained fury and without her, he would just be still. Boring and bored in the silence. He needed her just as much as she needed him. But how the hell could he tell her that without making her push him further away?

"Marshall," her voice was a like a whisper as she reached up and touched his cheek. She pulled his attention to her face like she knew it would and Marshall felt it all disappear. The shock and anger from when she couldn't tell him that she had already told Raph about the job. The hurt from finding out that she had been engaged long enough to get a tan line on her finger but hadn't told him. The bitterness of loosing her even though she wasn't gone. She was just changing and his was missing her a little more each day.

"Mare," he breathed out as he tucked as strand of her hair that had fallen loose back behind her ear. How was he supposed to stay mad at her? She was Mary. His brash and wild Mary. She was his partner and friend and he never could deny her anything. The anger was to help him cope but seeing it hurt her like this made it hard to understand why he was putting her through this.

Mary looked up at him curiously and Marshall knew he was teetering off the edge of anger and plummeting into forgiveness. What had been done was done and there wasn't anything Marshall could do to stop how he felt. Just because he couldn't have what he wanted didn't mean that she didn't deserve to be happy. The rage and bitterness submerged and a weary sense of loss was all that was left. There was nothing that he could do to stop the pain but now there was nothing that she could do that would make the resentment flood back in to encase his heart.

"Would you stop being mad if I told you I loved you too?"

Well, almost nothing.

Something in Marshall snapped and he couldn't tell if it was his brain or his heart. She wouldn't let him go and she wouldn't stop toying with him. He didn't care whether or not she knew how she could pull on his strings and tangle him in knots. The fact remained that she could and did. She threw his poorly concealed confession in his face and shattered whatever peace he had found. So Marshall did what he had seen Mary do so many times before when people got too close to her.

He pushed.


	3. Memories Hum

A/N: I'm currently stuck while writing this so I'm just posting what I have for now. Chapter 3.5 should be up by the end of the weekend but I'm not making any promises. Thanks to Pip and Yankee360 for the excellent betaing.

Raph was less than pleased. The day hadn't started out badly. Work had been fine. Jinx was taking her meetings seriously. Brandi had helped him clean up when he got home so the house was looking less like it had been ravaged by animals. But then Mary had come home in a particularly foul mood and Raph had learned that Mary's temper could, in fact, get worse than what he had seen in the past.

That wasn't the worst of it though. It had been bad enough that she had thrown bottles at him to chase him off when he had been simply trying to give her the phone. But now he was watching his fiancée run after her partner. Marshall had chucked a bottle back at her, yelled at her and turned his back on her. Instead of screaming at him or throwing another bottle, she had run _to_ him. Now, the way they were standing- the way Mary was touching Marshall's cheek, Raph was starting to wonder just how intimate their partnership really was.

The awkwardness grew as Brandi and Jinx turned to look at him sympathetically. Unlike Mary, they didn't –couldn't – ever hide what they were thinking. Raph wished they could hear what was being said outside instead of just making assumptions. It was hard not to interpret the way Mary was looking at Marshall though. And it was damn difficult not to jump through the window and strangle Marshall when he reached over to push some of Mary's hair out of her face. Apparently their fight was over and, the way they were standing, Raph was worried that they were about to literally kiss and make up.

He was glad that Brandi and Jinx were still looking at him, concern and pity oozing from their faces, instead at Mary when she spoke because Raph wasn't sure he could cope with their reaction. Even though she had never said the words to him, Raph knew what she had said. She told Marshall something that Raph had been waiting to hear from her, would have done anything to hear from her, and he felt like he had been punched in the chest when she said them to another man.

So it was a surprise to everyone when Marshall pushed Mary into the pool.

*~*~*

'Oops.'

That was Marshall's first thought when he looked down at the bedraggled Mary sputtering in the pool. His second thought was about how her clothes clung to her but that was quickly stuffed into the back of his brain in a file marked 'Pervis'. His third thought was 'she deserved it' and that was the one he stuck with.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Marshall! What the hell did you do that for?" Mary shrieked as she splashed her way upright.

She did deserve it. After years of torment, she had found a new way to drive him insane. This new way was worse than kicking his pride, insulting him with a smile, and randomly punching him for fun. She had ripped away hope when she got engaged to Raph. Then she had told Raph about the job and stolen the one part of her that Marshall had thought he would never have to share with anyone. Everything about the job was his and his alone until she had opened her mouth to a man that couldn't make her happy no matter how much she tried to fall into someone else's picture of normalcy. Marshall had no problem with her stealing his food, his keys or even his heart, but for her to take this away was cruel- even for Mary.

"I'm going to rip off your arms and beat you with bloody ends, you fuckwit!"

Saying that she would tell him that she loved him just so he wouldn't be mad at her anymore was worse. Far worse.

"Goddamn it! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

It was worse because she didn't mean it. Not the way he had meant it. She probably did love having him as a partner. She might even love him as a friend. But he loved her in everyway and it was killing him. It felt like his heart had been the bottle he had shattered on her wall. Actually, that was a good analogy. He had spent years breaking down the wall she had built up around her and she had finally let him in. If anybody else had gotten that close to her she would have pushed them right through that damnable wall but Marshall wasn't that lucky. Mary had let him in but was now dragging him back outside that wall. Over broken glass. Slowly. Tearing little bits of him away because he wouldn't stop her and she knew it.

"Doofus?"

He blinked away his train of thought and looked at her. She had stopped yelling and was staring up at him. Apparently, he had just been staring at her while she threw her tantrum and hadn't even realized it. It seemed to have unnerved her and, somewhere in his mind, Marshall made a note of how to deal with her the next time she threw a shit fit.

"Marshall?"

Oops. Still staring.

Marshall walked to the edge of the pool and crouched down. He started to reached out a hand to her but pulled it back as a spark of mischief danced in her eyes. He simply raised an eyebrow and Mary wilted. He was in no mood to play her games tonight and it looked like she understood that. But, just to make sure, he said, "If you pull me into the pool, I'm leaving, Mare."

There was a certain weight behind his words and even he wasn't sure what he meant by them. But Mary looked shocked and a little bit scared so Marshall guessed that she had taken his words to the extreme. It was nice to know, despite everything she had done to him lately, that she was still scared of losing him.

He held out his hand to her and she grabbed it like it was a lifeline. Marshall pulled her up and she stood next to him, docile and dripping wet. For a second, it seemed like she would stay quiet and calm but then her face scrunched up in annoyance. It was such a familiar expression, confused and irritated at the same time, that Marshall had to suppress the tiny smile that crossed his lips.

"I'm sick of you being mad at me," she said, sulking. Mary flipped her wet hair back and glared at him as she bluntly asked, "What do you want me to say?"

Marshall blinked. What did he want her to say? He wanted her to say that she was happy and actually mean it. He wanted her to say she was sorry. He wanted her to acknowledge that she had fucked up. He wanted her to. . . he wanted her. . . he wanted. . .

"Christ. What does it matter?" Marshall's jaw clenched. There was nothing he wanted that she could give. She couldn't turn back time and she couldn't stop the ache inside him. Talking wasn't helping anything right now. Marshall just felt worse. He wanted to go home, crawl into a bottle and forget this whole night. Forget the last few days. The last four years. Everything.

Marshall started to turn away but Mary grabbed his arm. She seemed bound and determined to keep him here so she could inflict her own particular brand of punishment on him. Ripping his arm from Mary's grasp, Marshall walked away from her. The crunching noise from under his boots annoyed him and he was suddenly jealous of the people who only had to dodge poorly thrown bottles. They just had to learn how to duck and run but he had to suffer.

"Marshall- ouch- damn it!" Mary yanked him to a stop and forced him around to face her. "What do you mean- what does it matter? It fucking matters to me so tell me what to do to fix this."

"I don't know what to tell you, Mare," Marshall said despondently. God he was tired. She had him so off kilter he couldn't find any kind of balance at the moment. One second he wanted to scream at her until his throat bled and, the next, he just wanted to slide into oblivion to hide. From the look on her face, Mary was having the same problem. She was red from rage and alcohol but her eyes were shining. They were both stuck somewhere between crying and launching a full-scale assault but neither could pick which way to go so they just flipped between the two extremes and Marshall was exhausted from it all.

"You have to know! You know everything. You have to tell me how to- how," Mary rant was suddenly cut off as she grabbed the lapels of Marshall's jacket and hung onto them. She tried, disjointedly, to finish, "I- Fix this- Marshall, I have to. I can't. . . I can't lose you."

Wracked with tears, Mary clung to Marshall as she slowly collapsed to the ground. He crouched as she pulled him down and wrapped his arms around her shaking frame. She was muttering something indistinguishable as she ground her face into his chest. Marshall hung onto her as best he could but, when Mary's legs slid out sideways from underneath her, he had to put a hand down to steady himself.

The ground stung and bit into his skin. '_What the hell_,' he wondered irritably as he looked at his hand. Glass shards coated his hands and when he looked down at the concrete under him, he saw the bloody smears trailing from Mary's feet.

"Damn it, Mare," Marshall exploded. Grabbing Mary under her knees and arms, he lifted her off the offending ground, "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were standing in glass?"

Without waiting for an answer, Marshall carried her up the back step to the back door. There, he stopped, stumped. He couldn't set Mary down without risking that the glass on her feet getting driven in further and he couldn't open the door with her in his arms. Her hands were still clenched onto his jacket and Marshall didn't think she would let go. Frustrated, Marshall kicked the door frame hard and yelled, "Open the damn door!"


	4. But the Rage Seranades

Raph felt like an asshole. He had seen Mary walk onto the broken glass and hadn't done a thing. He could have opened the door and yelled or done something else but. . . he couldn't. He had been too worried about flying bottles and Mary's violent temper. Raph had felt rooted to the spot, unable to stop watching as Mary and Marshall continued their fight. It had been like watching a soap opera with the sound off- especially when Mary had dissolved into hysterics. Raph had even winced when Mary's legs slid along the shard strewn ground and smeared blood. But, even then, he hadn't moved.

It had been Marshall who had done something. Once he had noticed the blood, Marshall had scooped her up and carried her up the back stairs. It was obvious that the man was still pissed, but even in his anger, he had swallowed his rage and helped Mary. And that simple fact cut Raph deep. Marshall could help Mary when Raph couldn't. That was what made Raph feel so horrible.

So when Marshall kicked the door and demanded that someone open it, Raph jumped and threw open the door. Mary's face was hidden by her hair but her shoulders was shaking in such a way that Raph was sure that she was crying even though he couldn't hear anything. Raph was overwhelmed by the urge to brush away her hair and tell her that everything was going to be ok but, even at the sight of Mary in pain, he couldn't get over the irrational fear. '_How fucked up is that_,' Raph thought bitterly, '_She's crying and I don't want to touch her. I'm afraid of my own fiancée._'

* * *

Marshall was pissed. He knew that Brandi, Jinx, and Raph had seen Mary run onto the glass and they hadn't done a damn thing but watch. These were the people that Mary bent over backwards for and they couldn't even open their mouths to stop her from hurting herself. There was just something inherently wrong with that.

Storming past them, Marshall carried Mary towards the bathroom and tried to ignore his anger towards her family. He could be infuriated later but, right now, he had to get the glass out of Mary's feet. Luckily, the bathroom door was ajar so it only took a small kick to open it wide enough to admit the two of them so Marshall didn't have to call upon Raph's amazing ability to open a door again. Hitting the lights with his elbow, Marshall slammed the door shut with his boot heel and was surprised to hear a tiny giggle from the blond mess in his arms.

He looked down to see Mary staring up at him with a small smile on her face. Quietly, she said, "The house is already a wreck, Marshall. You don't need to kick down all my doors."

"If your doors don't want to be kicked then they need to get the hell out of my way," Marshall muttered as he set her down carefully on the edge of the sink. Little shards of glass dropped off from her clothes and Marshall assessed the situation as best he could. His partner was bleeding from the cuts on her feet, there was glass all over the floor, both of them still had shards embedded in their clothes and he still didn't know whether he should strangle or hug Mary.

It only took a few seconds for him to come up with a plan but Marshall hesitated for a moment before doing anything. The first thing that needed to happen was… a bit awkward but it had to be done. Mary was watching him expectantly as she swung her legs back and forth from her perch on the sink and Marshall realized he couldn't be looking anywhere near her for the moment. So, with his eyes forcefully turned to the ceiling, he said, "Mare, take off your pants."

* * *

Mary's legs stopped moving. Her whole body stilled and she just stared at the man in front of her as he inspected her ceiling. The whole evening had been a jumbled wreck of booze and confusion but Mary was certain she was hallucinating now. Her soused brain insisted that Marshall had just told her to take off her pants but that wasn't possible.

* * *

Raph, Brandi and Jinx froze in place as they hovered outside the bathroom door. The door wasn't that thick but it was obviously distorting what was being said inside. There was no way that what they had just heard was correct.

* * *

Marshall tried to ignore the silence but it was getting unbearable. He could feel Mary's eyes boring into him and the embarrassment was beginning to overwhelm him. Finally, the need to explain himself outweighed his desire to not speak, "Mare, you've got cuts on your legs and glass stuck to your pants. You need to take them off so I can get you patched up."

There was a tiny reply of "Ok" and Marshall heard Mary shifting around from her spot on the sink. Staring at the ceiling, Marshall prayed that Mary was wearing underwear today. She routinely taunted him with comments about going commando and he sincerely hoped that, if she wasn't joking about it, today wasn't one of those days. Not thrilled with his train of thought combined with his current situation, Marshall was glad to be interrupted by Mary- even if she did say, "I think I need a little help here."

Turning his eyes away from her bland ceiling, Marshall had to suppress a grin when he saw the sad state Mary was in. In her drunken state, she had only been able to get her pants half off one of her hips and she was a bit too wobbly to get them off without some assistance. Tossing him a crooked smile, Mary added, "Come on, Marshall, you know you've always wanted to get me out of my pants."

Her teasing tone took the unintended sting out of the comment and Marshall smirked as he walked over to the sink, "I don't know Mare. I've always thought of your pants as some kind temple from an Indiana Jones movie."

"What the hell does that mean?" Mary scowled as she reached her arms up around Marshall's neck. When she felt his hands snake around her hips, Mary pulled herself off the sink an inch or two and wriggled as Marshall slid her pants down to her knees. Dropping back down to the sink, she let go of her partner and steadied herself to keep from falling over.

Kneeling, Marshall began carefully tugging her bloodied pants down over her injured feet while he answered her, "You know- filled with snake pits, death traps, falling rocks. All sorts of things to kill a man for trying to get to the treasure inside."

Mary snorted derisively. "I can't believe you just said there's a treasure in my pants."

"I also said there was a snake pit."

* * *

Outside the bathroom, Brandi, Jinx, and Raph were trying to understand what the hell could be happening on the other side of the door. For two people who were just fighting a few minutes ago, Mary and Marshall were giggling far too much.

* * *

The laughter subsided once Marshall noticed that there was still blood dripping from Mary's feet. The scratches on her legs were superficial but some of the cuts on her feet looked deep. Worse still, there were a number of glass shards still embedded in her feet. Swiping a washcloth from beside the sink, Marshall ran it under some warm water and crouched back down. Mary stilled as he took a foot in his hands. His thumb rubbed her ankle idly as he began washing the blood gently away and Mary relaxed.

Anticipating pain, Mary had tensed but Marshall's delicate touch wiped away her nervousness. She could feel the shards fall off but there was no pull of tearing skin or sting of biting glass. There was just the soothing swipe of cloth and Marshall's thumb making calming circles on her ankle.

"I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore," Mary blurted out suddenly. Marshall's thumb stilled and he stared up at her. Smiling widely, Mary added, "Anyone else would have taken some kind of perverse glee in yanking the glass out of my feet."

"Tweezers?" Marshall held his hand out to her and Mary twisted around to grab them for him. As she dropped them into his hand, Mary's grin faltered as she realized he wasn't smiling back at her. Wariness fell over her like wet blanket when a look of sadness passed over Marshall's face before he abruptly turned his attention back to her feet.

"What makes you think I'm not mad at you anymore?"

* * *

The loud yelps coming from the bathroom were beginning to worry Jinx. Mary's drunken binges always frightened her but, despite the sheer relief she had felt when Marshall had shown up, Jinx was worried that her daughter's partner was inflicting some kind of torture onto Mary.

It didn't help that they could only catch fragments of conversation. Poor Raphael looked like he wanted to break down the door and save his fiancée from Marshall's 'tender' ministrations. Wringing her hands in concern, Jinx understood how Raphael felt. Knowing Mary, they would just get yelled at for trying to help her. So all they could do was wait. They listened carefully for any sounds of Mary screaming for their help but she and Raph hadn't heard anything of the like. Every once in awhile, something clear could be heard but none of it ever made any sense. Mary had yelled something about 'this is revenge for the tube, isn't it?' before practically shrieking in agony. Just a little bit ago, Marshall had all but shouted 'I am _not_ a windmill.'

At that point, Brandi had huffed out something along the lines of 'they can't even fight like normal people' before stomping back to the couch. Jinx wished she could join her younger daughter but fear kept her rooted to the spot. It had gotten quiet in there- too quiet and Jinx could feel her nerves quaking as she wondered what on earth could be going on in there.

* * *

"This is revenge for the tube, isn't it?" Mary glared down at the man who was currently contemplating a new way to torture her poor, abused feet. While it seemed as though he was trying to be gentle, it was all a ruse. There was a ruthlessness hidden behind the concern and the pain she felt was the only evidence she needed to prove it. Those blasted tweezers moved between two of her toes and, with a quick yank, ripped another piece of glass out. Mary yelped and suppressed the urge to kick Marshall in the face.

Calmly, Marshall inspected the mess of blood and torn flesh in front of him. So far, he had removed six large chunks of glass and numerous shards but it was getting hard to tell if all the glass was gone. As he dabbed the blood away as gently as he could, Marshall answered quietly, "No, Mare, it's not revenge. This is me cleaning up one of your messes and I really don't appreciate you thinking that I'm trying to intentionally hurt you."

The hateful expression on Mary's face faded into something that could resemble shame- had it been on someone else's face- and she muttered a quick 'sorry' before settling into a sulk. Hunched over on the sink, Mary tried to figure out how much more pain she was going to have to go through before Marshall was done. Her feet were throbbing with a dull ache and it _felt_ like all the glass was gone but she knew Marshall would be thorough and scrutinize over every inch of her feet before he was done. There was a sudden flash of gratefulness at his attentive concern but that was over as quick as it came when he pulled another small shard out of her big toe. Trying to bite back yet another yelp of pain, Mary ended up biting her tongue and growled in frustration.

Slamming down the tweezers, Marshall scowled up at Mary. "You do realize I could have just dumped you on the couch at let your family take care of you or dropped you off at a hospital instead of doing this myself, don't you?"

"I know, I know." Mary mumbled. It wasn't fair. She thought Marshall was done being mad at her but here he was- snipping at her again. So, out of snarkiness, she added, "But, in my defense, you know how I am so you really should just expect it."

"Yes, I know you. You expect the worst from people because that's what you're used to and you fight back whether you need to or not. Waiting for a fight isn't good enough for you so you spend your whole life tilting at windmills. But what you forget is," Marshall's voice rose in irritation, "I am _not_ a windmill."

"You're what?"

Marshall sighed and turned his attention back to her feet, "What that means is that I'm sick of you treating me like you treat everyone else. I've spent most of the last four years trying to help you, trying to be your friend, and some times you act like I'm some schmuck on the street trying to pull one over on you."

"Actually, I was asking what you were if you're not a windmill." Mary blatantly ignored the guilt that had wound it's way into her brain from Marshall's little speech. "Are you the Sancho to my Don Quixote?"

"Considering how much you ride my ass," Marshall grumbled, "I'm probably Rocinante."

Mary grinned, "So you're my horse?"

"Of course," Marshall paused before adding, "of course."

* * *

Jinx was baffled. She had heard them yelling at each other but now they were laughing again. Brandi was right. They couldn't even fight like normal people.

"Do you think we should see if they need anything?" Raphael asked.

Shaking her head, Jinx patted the poor boy's arm. He was so worried for Mary and Jinx was, once again, grateful that her daughter had found such a nice man to love. Now if only Mary could start treating him better. Of course, it would help if Mary would stop working so much and spend some time with her family.

* * *

"I don't want to go out there yet," Mary whined. She glared at the door like it was the entrance to hell and Marshall could sympathize. They both knew what was going to happen when they left the little confines of the bathroom. Jinx would lecture Mary on sobriety, Mary's attitude and how scared they all been. There would probably be an intervention planned. And Raph would be right behind Jinx. He would be nicer about it but the end result would be a shit ton of guilt heaped upon Mary without anyone trying to understand why she did the things she did.

"You could take a bath." Marshall suggested. That would give her some extra time to prepare for the inevitable and her feet could probably use the soak. Of course, the logistics of getting her into the tub naked without her walking was a problem. Looking around the bathroom, Marshall pondered the situation. The strategic placement of a towel would probably work- provided that Mary behaved and didn't 'accidentally' let the towel drop a little bit just to watch him get flustered.

"Jesus Marshall, you must really want me naked and wet tonight."

Well, there went the hope that she would behave. Maybe he could just dump her in the tub with her clothes on. As he plugged up the tub and started running the water, Marshall replied with, "You know I had a good reason to tell you to take off your pants and pushing you into the pool was an impulse thing."

"Are we going to talk about that?"

"Nope."

"Ok." Mary watched Marshall as he focused on getting her bath ready. He checked and double checked the temperature of the water, added some Epsom salt, and then rechecked the water temperature. There was just one thing missing so Mary asked, "What? No bubbles?"

"You want bubbles with open cuts on your feet?"

"But you put salt in," Mary protested.

Marshall shut off the water and turned to her with an eyebrow raised. "Do you really want me to explain why I put salt in the water and not bubbles?"

Mary grumbled something that sounded like 'smartass' and reached up to grab onto Marshall as he lifted her off the sink again.

* * *

When Jinx heard the someone filling the tub, she was surprised that Marshall hadn't asked someone to come in and help. It was just… improper for him to be in there while Mary was indisposed. Especially with her mother and finance waiting to check on her.

The door opened suddenly and Jinx practically had to jump to the side to avoid Marshall barreling out of the bathroom. Without saying a word he all but stomped outside to the backyard.

* * *

"No wonder Mary didn't want to leave the bathroom," Marshall muttered under his breath as he started gathering up the bottles Mary had emptied. Jinx and Raph had been hovering around outside the bathroom door when he had exited and he had almost run into Jinx. He had stepped around her but Jinx had still leaped aside dramatically as though Marshall were a Mac truck barreling down the road. Shaking his head as he dumped the bottles into the garbage can Mary kept outside, Marshall realized, once again, how difficult it must be for Mary share a house with someone who lived by the phrase 'all the world's a stage'.

It was no surprise Jinx couldn't understand Mary. His partner didn't follow anyone's script but her own.

Pulling the garbage can over the edge of the deck, Marshall grabbed the hose and began spraying the broken glass and blood into the can. Thanks to Mary's love of lazy ingenuity, the can had holes drilled into the bottom and a fine wire mesh caught most of the glass as the water ran out. Marshall had been confused the first time he had seen the can, but after the past few years, he had come to appreciate the modification. He even had one at his place for the same reason. Granted, his was strictly for glass recyclables but it was still useful. Especially since Mary had been using his backyard as her personal sulking pit for the past few years.

Sighing, Marshall walked back across the yard to grab what beer was left. He'd have to take it with or Brandi would dump it out and that would just set Mary off again. It was probably for the best if he just kept it at his place for the next time she needed some time to herself.

* * *

From her perch on the couch, Brandi could keep an eye on everything going on. Marshall had just finished cleaning up the backyard, Jinx was pacing in the kitchen and Chico was still hovering near the bathroom. She had a moment of worry when Marshall brought the beer into the house but, luckily, he just kept on going and it looked like he was taking it out to his truck. Thankfully, Marshall understood, even if Mary didn't, that keeping booze in the house was a bad thing. It had to be so hard for Jinx to stay sober with Mary knocking back a few every time she was home. '_And_,' Brandi thought, '_Keeping her sober makes it so much easier to live with her. Now if only Mary would do the same_.'

That train of thought got derailed when Marshall came back in and started bustling around the house. Brandi watched as the tall man moved around the house with a purpose. He seemed to know where everything was and he started gathering things up. First was a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin went into the bedroom- presumably on the nightstand. Then it was a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt on the table next to the bathroom door. Finally he walked past the pacing Jinx into the kitchen and started rifling through the cupboard where Mary kept her extensive collection of coffee mugs.

At this point, they were all watching him. Brandi was just happy that someone could deal with Mary when she was like this but Jinx and Raph seemed to be getting agitated by Marshall's continued presence. Finally Jinx spoke up, "Look, Marshall, we all appreciate you coming over here and taking care of Mary but I think we can handle it from here."

But Marshall just ignored her and continued searching through the cupboard. He started pulling cups out and rooting around in the back but he couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. Without turning around he asked, "Where the hell did the superglue go?"

"It's in the junk drawer." Raph took a step towards the kitchen but stopped when Marshall whirled around.

"Mary doesn't have a junk drawer."

Stepping between the two men, Jinx put her hands on her hips and stated, "Raphael reorganized the kitchen when he moved in so now everything is in a place that makes sense."

"But it made the most sense to have the superglue with the coffee cups since she breaks the handles off when she's having a really bad morning. She's always kept her superglue there." For the first time since he had arrive, Marshall looked flustered and that peaked Brandi's curiosity. He could deal with Mary throwing bottles, Mary getting cut up on glass but he couldn't handle the superglue not being in the cupboard? No wonder he and Mary got along so well- both of them were nuts.

Raph finally abandoned his post in front of the bathroom door and crossed over to the junk drawer in the kitchen. He pulled out the superglue and handed it to Marshall without a word. Unfortunately, Jinx decided to speak up again, "I really think we can take care of Mary now that she's calmed down. And, no offense Marshall, but you've never had to deal with her when she's like this."

"What do you mean- like this? Cut up or throwing-bottles drunk? Because I've had to deal with her in both situations before." Marshall finally focused on Jinx and Brandi was certain that her mother hadn't anticipated how disconcerting it seemed to be to have the whole of Marshall's attention. He _looked_ calm but there was something about him that made Brandi think he was pissed.

"But she's only been like this in Albuquerque once," Jinx protested. One of her ever moving hands came up to brush her hair back and show Marshall her scar, "The night she gave me this was the last time she bought a case of beer."

Marshall stared at her blankly for a moment before asking, "Do you even remember how you got that scar?"

Puffing up in indignation, Jinx huffed, "Of course I remember! I came home one night a few weeks after I moved in and Mary threw a bottle at me when I went out to the backyard to ask her how her day had been." One of her hands fluttered up to cover up her quivering lips and Brandi saw her mother's eyes tear up before she continued, "When I woke up, the doctor told me that I had to have four stitches."

"Two." Marshall's blunted tone drew everyone's attention away from Jinx.

"What?"

"You had to have two stitches," Marshall explained. "And it wasn't from Mary hitting you with a bottle. As far as I know, she's never actually hit anyone. She just throws bottles in front of people's feet to get them to leave her alone."

"How would you know," Jinx demanded. "You weren't even here!"

Marshall stared at her coolly and Brandi was stunned by the transformation of the man's face. Normally, he was the cheerful counterpoint to her sister's grumpiness but there wasn't anything remotely resembling cheerfulness in his expression when he responded.

"Actually, I _was_ here. Mary and I were doing some paperwork out by the pool when you came out, completely drunk, and began shrieking when you saw the case of beer we had picked up. Mary didn't even get a word out before you turned to run and tripped over your own feet. The cut is from when your head hit the ground." Marshall paused to let that sink in before adding, "We took you to the hospital where you got _two_ stitches and Mary spent the rest of the night checking on you to make sure you were all right. She stayed by your side until you woke up. After that, anytime she wanted to get smashed, she came over to my place and drank in my backyard."

A stunned silence descended and no one moved. Jinx looked absolutely horrified and Brandi was sure that her face looked like she had stuck her finger in a light socket. Raph looked a little wobbly and sick but Marshall just stood in the kitchen like a statue until they all heard the sound of the bathtub draining. A few seconds later, Mary called out for Marshall and he walked calmly through the fallout zone his words had created to the bathroom where he slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Mary sat in the tub wrapped up in the towel that Marshall had left within reach for her. When he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door, she understood completely. "Who was it- Jinx, Raph or Brandi?"

Lifting the bedraggled Mary out of the tub, Marshall growled, "Did you know your mother thinks that the scar on her forehead is from you hitting her with a bottle?"

When Mary was deposited back onto her perch next to the sink, she shrugged. "I kinda figured that one out when she hid all the bottles the next day."

Marshall gaped at her for a second before handing her the sweatpants and t-shirt he had taken from her room. Instead of saying anything, he just turned away and Mary wouldn't be surprised if he had closed his eyes in order to give her the feeling of privacy. As she awkwardly slipped into her clothes, Mary felt compelled to explain, "It just made it easier, you know. She wouldn't believe me if I told her the truth and she left me alone for a few weeks. Now turn around and get me patched up."

Once again, Marshall was inspecting her feet but this time there wasn't nearly as much pain. There were a few pinches as he closed up the larger cuts with superglue and a few pokes in tender places as he double checked for more glass but eventually Mary's feet were encased in gauze and she was in Marshall's arms again.

"Since you don't want me kicking down your doors, could you please open them for me this time?"

"You can open them yourself, Rocinante."

*~*~*

One piggyback ride later, Mary had been dumped onto her bed and Marshall was contemplating climbing out the window so he wouldn't have to face Mary's family again. He was staring at the window intensely when Mary's giggles subsided and she asked, "Are you done being mad at me yet?"

"Mare," Marshall sighed and Mary felt a wretch in her stomach when his shoulders dropped in defeat, "I'm going to be mad at you for awhile but that doesn't mean that I'm going to stop being your friend."

Mary curled up under the covers and gave Marshall the most pitiful look she could produce, "So we're still friends but you're mad at me? How does that work?"

There was a quiet moment as Marshall shuffled his thoughts into something that Mary could understand and she braced herself for the onslaught. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, Mary slid her hand under his and a felt a jolt of hope as he squeezed her hand briefly.

"Sometimes I'm going to get upset with the things you do," he started. When he felt her tense up, he squeezed her hand again before continuing, "You've admitted to me that you know that your behavior drives people away but I need you to understand that I'm not going anywhere. I may need some space for awhile and you might want to think about how some of the things you do can affect my life but I'm not really expecting you to change. I don't foresee an apology out of you any time soon and I know you're not going to change. Hell, I know that tomorrow you're going to pretend you're too drunk to remember this conversation even though we both know you're stone cold sober right now."

Mary opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. All she could do was clutch onto Marshall's hand and hope.

"I know you're not going to change and I don't want you to. I just want you to understand I'm going to be angry with you from time to time but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop being here for you." A tiny smile appeared on Marshall's face as he turned to look at her, "We're friends, Mare, and that means you're stuck with me. Got it?"

Understanding finally wandered it's way into Mary's brain and she nodded. Toying with Marshall's hand, she wondered what she should say. Everything she could think of was sappy and so unlike her that she couldn't force the words out. Finally, she said the only thing that seemed appropriate.

"If you're going to climb out the window, the air conditioning unit makes a nice step but you have to be careful not to get your feet caught in the pipes."

Marshall chuckled quietly as he stood up and crossed over to the window. He was half out the window when he turned back towards her, "Call me if you need anything?"

"Can I call you for another pony ride later?"

Laughing, Marshall climbed the rest of the way out the window and shut it. Sleep began to tug at Mary's eyes but she made sure to stay awake long enough to hear Marshall's truck drive away. Muttering one last thing, Mary rolled over and let unconsciousness claim her.

"Good night, jackass."

*~*~*~*

A/N: Ok, so that's not what I wanted Mary to say but my muse wouldn't let me type the words I wanted so I let her win just so I could get this damn thing done. I hope y'all have enjoyed it.


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